


The Better Devil

by Starbooks13



Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Budapest, But Loki Does It Better, Dancing, Dracula Does Too, F/M, Halloween, Loki Does What He Wants, Masks, Natasha Feels, Possessive Behavior, Sexual Tension, Warning: Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 03:35:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starbooks13/pseuds/Starbooks13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dracula comes back for Natasha and Loki doesn't like other villains touching his things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Better Devil

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write fic about Dracula's parting words from episode 5 about Natasha being his forever. Halloween gave me the excuse to do it, and Loki gave me a plot. :)

                When Fury had first mentioned the word “Budapest” in Natasha’s briefing, she had nearly walked out.  There was no way in hell she was going back to that city.  She had barely survived the last time she’d been there.

                But Fury was insistent that no one else could get the mission done right but her.  And he was probably right.  It was a tricky in-and-out hit: she would, on her own, have to infiltrate a high-profile masquerade ball on Halloween night, catch the eye of her target—a wealthy European industrialist currently funding HYDRA—lure him into a dark corner, eliminate him, and get out before anyone realized what had happened.  The masquerade theme made it easier at least, since she wouldn’t have to fear being recognized.

                So despite her misgivings, Natasha found herself spending Halloween in Budapest, searching a crowded ballroom for her target.  She was pleased to find that her costume—a fancy, low-cut ball gown that matched her red hair, a glittering gold mask, and some simple gold-and-ruby jewelry—was actually pretty tame for this crowd.  Most of the other guests’ costumes were far more lavishly ornate.  She looked around intently for her target, occasionally agreeing to a dance, but otherwise staying on the move.  According to their intel, he was supposed to be wearing a long gold cape over a black suit with a matching gold mask.

                Yet though she looked for a flash of gold amongst the colorful crowd, Natasha kept seeing a streak of green out of the corner of her eyes.  She ignored it.  She didn’t have time to play games tonight.

                She eventually found her target and started laying on the charm in flawless Hungarian.  He was surprisingly charming himself—though oddly, his eyes stayed fixed on her neck rather than her chest.  Really, that should have been her first warning that something was off.

                The orchestra struck up a new waltz, and her mark bowed to her.  “May I have this dance, my dear?”

                She flashed him her most winning smile.  “Of course.”  He lead her out onto the dance floor, and Natasha discovered he was a better dancer than most previous marks she’d had the dubious pleasure of waltzing with.  As she looked into his eyes, she found herself entertaining oddly romantic notions of being Cinderella at the ball, dancing with her Prince Charming and ready for her happily ever after…

                The streak of green appeared in her peripheral vision again, and she shook her head.  What was she thinking?  She was supposed to kill this man, not daydream about him.  She had to work fast.  She didn’t know how much time she had left.

                Natasha gave her partner a sultry smile and pressed herself closer to him. “Care to take this somewhere more…private?” She murmured in his ear.

                Her mark chuckled.  “Soon, little one.  But ‘tis nearly midnight.  We wouldn’t want to miss the grand unmasking, would we?”

                Unmasking?  That could be a problem.  She couldn’t let anyone here see her face.  They might make connections later, after his dead body had been recovered.  “But surely I’m the only person whose face you’d like to see?”

                “Oh, I already know your face, Widow.”

                Now this, this was a problem.  A really big problem.  Natasha fought to keep her feet moving in the waltz and immediately played dumb. “What are you talking about?  I don’t think we’ve met before, and I’ve certainly never been married, let alone widowed.”

                “Oh, but we have met before, my dear.  Though I wore a different face.”  The mark’s voice suddenly deepened into a dark, familiar cadence that made Natasha’s pulse race.  For an instant, his skin and hair turned ghostly white, and red eyes flashed at her from behind his mask, before his features transformed back into those of her mark.

                “Dracula,” Natasha breathed, not bothering to hide the fear in her voice.  The creature in front of her knew her fear all too well—he was one of the few beings who could stake that claim.  She only hoped her hunch was right, and that another such individual was here that night.  “What do you want?” 

                “I told the good Captain that you were mine forever.”  He leaned down and sniffed her neck, much to Natasha’s revulsion.  “When I claim something, I rarely let it go.”

                “Mind if I cut in?”  

                Natasha almost sighed in relief.  She turned her head to see Loki, dressed in all his Asgardian finery and as such blending in perfectly with the crowd, holding out a hand.  “Away with you, Trickster,” Dracula growled, his grip tight on her hand and waist.  “She belongs to me.”

                Loki’s mischievous smirk remained in place, but something dark flashed in his eyes.  “We shall see about that,” he said smoothly.  “But I feel obliged to tell you that you are causing a scene.  If you do not wish to involve SHIELD or the Avengers, I suggest you give her to me.”

                Dracula growled again, but Loki had a point.  They were starting to get stares.  “I will not forget this,” he snarled, releasing Natasha.  She quickly took Loki’s hand and let him draw her away from the Vampire King.

                “Don’t make threats you can’t follow through,” Loki replied, smirk widening as he swept Natasha away, leaving the disguised Dracula to storm off.  The orchestra struck up a new waltz and Natasha allowed Loki to pull her close.  “It seems he’s developed a taste for you, Natasha.”

                “The feeling isn’t mutual, I assure you,” Natasha replied, still on edge.  Just because Loki had saved her didn’t mean she was safe.  She was never safe with him.

                “Good,” Loki purred viciously, his hand splayed possessively on her lower back.  “Because I won’t let him take another bite out of you.”

                “What do you get from that?”

                “The knowledge that you are not his.”  That same dark something flashed in his eyes again.  “And that you may still yet be mine.”

                Natasha raised an eyebrow.  “I belong to no one.”

                He chuckled.  “Keep telling yourself that, and maybe someday you’ll believe it.”

                The waltz came to an end, and they halted at the edge of the dance floor.  The clock chimed midnight, and partygoers all around them started unmasking.  Loki let go of her, but his eyes kept her rooted to the spot as he reached for her face.  “Dracula killed your mark to assume his face,” he said softly.  “No need to hide any longer.”  Almost tenderly, he removed her mask, icy fingers tracing the curve of her cheek.  Natasha could not repress a shudder at the too-intimate touch.  His gentleness was a lie, as surely as if he has spun it with his silver tongue.  But his hungry gaze told the truth, broadcasting his desire to shatter her and piece her back together to his liking.  “Be honest, little spider,” he murmured, his tone dark and tempting.  “If given the choice between belonging to that beast or me, you know who you would choose.”

                “Yes,” she whispered, and he yanked her into a vicious, bruising kiss.  She gave back as good as she got, knowing that Dracula was watching from somewhere.  In this case, Loki truly was the lesser of two evils.  He wanted her human—broken and unmade, but human.  She had survived being unmade before, she knew she could do it again.  But losing her humanity, as well as her will?  She would rather let Loki break her, as slowly and intimately as he’d promised he would.

                Better the devil she had beaten before than the devil she had not.


End file.
